


Fugitives

by Gaylagher



Series: One Shots [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 15:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11233980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaylagher/pseuds/Gaylagher





	Fugitives

Ian’s emerald eyes were trained on the border, eyeing the security and the German Shepherds trained to sniff out anyone smuggling drugs across the border. He knew that he wanted to do this; he wanted to be with Mickey.

Mickey was the thrill that he so desperately needed—the rush of adrenaline, the euphoria flooding inside, filling Ian’s gaping void, the love he never truly got, and he knew if he chickened out now, he’d never see Mickey again. He wasn’t ready to let his chapter with Mickey be just a chapter; he wanted Mickey to be part of the whole book.

“Just play it cool,” Mickey informed Ian, while fixing his black dress and stick-on earrings, still seated in the rundown car, “like we’re goin’ on vacation.”

“Got it,” Ian nodded, eyes never leaving the border. _This is it. This is really happening._ He was a bundle of nerves, while being surprisingly calm at the same time.

Mickey stopped and looked at the redhead. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not having second thoughts about it.. are you?” Mickey asked, his voice trembling with fear. Ian looked at his love, and recognized the fear and sadness in those sapphire eyes.

“No,” Ian answered, truthfully, “I’m crossing that border with you. We’re doing this together. You, me, us.” Mickey’s shoulders sagged as he looked content. Both him and Ian knew that Ian could get quite finicky, especially what with being bipolar.

“Okay,” Mickey said and nodded, before looking at the sideview mirror again. “Fuck, can you see my stubble?” He got out of the car, surprisingly walking with his heels on proficiently; like he’d been wearing heels all his life. Needless to say, Ian was impressed.

“Look, if they stop us, my name’s still Mickey,” Mickey informed Ian, “chicks are called Mickey, right?”

“I’ve never met a chick called Mickey,” Ian said.

“Then.. Michelle,” Mickey said.

“That’s still close to Mikhailo.”

“Fuck. Choose a name for me.”

Ian chewed on his lower lip, before looking at the man he was dick-whipped for. “Autumn?”

“That’s what Northside motherfuckers name their bratty kids.”

“Do you have any other name suggestions?” Ian replied, and the raven-haired man didn’t reply, “didn’t think so.”

“Fine,” Mickey replied, “Autumn it is. You’re driving.” Ian nodded and settled himself in the drivers seat while Mickey occupied the shotgun. Ian’s emerald eyes were trained on the border and licked his lips. “Gallagher. Drive.”

“I am,” Ian said and started the car, “keep your shirt on.”

“What, you don’t like me shirtless?” Mickey teased, smirking.

Ian rolled his eyes and drove over to the border, heart thumping against his chest, the action filling his ears with the sound of his quick-paced heart beats. Ian didn’t dare glancing at Mickey while the security got the German Shepherds to walk around the derelict car, trying to sniff out anything unusual.

Both men waited with bated breaths, and let out an exhale that they were keeping when the gate opened, letting them into Mexico.

They made it past the border.

Everything that Ian had known, everything that he was comfortable with, gone in the blink of an eye. His siblings weren’t a part of his life anymore. Now it was just Mickey and Ian.

Like it always has been.

Ian would be lying to himself if he said that his siblings had his back more than Mickey did. Mickey was his ride or die; he’d take a bullet for Ian, he knew that. He’d do anything for Ian. And crossing the border, leaving everything behind and not looking back proved Ian that he too, can be Mickey’s ride or die.

 

***************

Weeks have gone by and everything was bliss. Mickey and Ian had their 32 grand in pesos, and they had each other. Ian didn’t know why he was so scared of making such a drastic decision.

“Ay,” Mickey called, catching Ian’s attention—which was on a book prior to Mickey calling him—“c’mere, Gallagher.”

Ian dog-eared the book and closed it before walking over to Mickey. “What— _mm_ ,” he started, but was cut off by Mickey’s lips on his. Soon enough, their kiss was more fervent and needy, as if the two men were robbed of each other’s lips and just recently reunited.

Ian pushed Mickey back on the wall, the smack of lips and soft moans filling the room. Ian couldn’t get enough of Mickey’s lips. They were addicting and filled Ian with thrill.

“Need you,” Mickey said, while Ian trailed hot kisses down to the shorter man’s neck. Mickey closed his eyes, relishing on Ian’s lips on his skin, those lips that sent shivers down Mickey’s spine, and made him feel like he was floating.

“How bad?” Ian inquired, against his skin, “how bad do you need me?”

Mickey grabbed Ian’s wrist and lowered it onto his fully erect cock, “is that a good enough answer?”

Ian grinned against his lover’s neck and turned the lower man around. “Do I need to prep you?”

“No,” Mickey shook his head as both men hastily took their clothes off, “I’m still good from before.” Ian nodded and kissed Mickey’s neck, getting a quiet “fuck” from the shorter man, as he coated his dick with spit.

“Hurry,” Mickey snapped, too sexually frustrated to be teased.

“Still a needy bottom, huh?” Ian inquired, smirking.

“Shut the fuck—holy _shit_ ,” Mickey moaned as Ian thrust into him unexpectedly, lips still on Mickey’s neck. Ian sucked on the soft spot as he relentlessly drilled into the needy bottom, as he gripped onto Mickey’s hips, the smacking sound of lips on skin and skin slapping onto skin filling the room.

Ian had missed this; he had missed how Mickey encouraged Ian to fuck him hard, despite Ian’s size. He had missed how needy Mickey was, and how Mickey grunted, eyebrows screwed in pleasure and slight pain. He had missed the soft hisses and grunts that came out of Mickey’s mouth.

He had missed Mickey.

Ian circled his hand around his lover’s cock, jerking him off at the same speed he was fucking Mickey, and angled his hips to hit his prostate. “Fuck, like that. Just like that, baby.”

The pet name alone could’ve made Ian cum, as he pounded relentlessly into his lover until both men were cumming. Ian’s vision went white, as he orgasmed, as he pulled out from his lover.

“That was good,” Mickey complimented, planted a sweet kiss on Ian’s lips.

“I love you,” Ian mumbled against Mickey’s lips, “so fucking much.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
